Not a lot going on this week, I say to my friend, while adding silently, a lot is going on inside my head. The thing about living through the middle age is that a lot of things are going on inside your head while in appearance, everything seems so serene.

One kid out of the house, another one on the way out, and suddenly, I am faced with “What am I going to do?” and “Who am I?” questions.

The things I know like the back of my own hands have become the things out of the outer corner of space, in a galaxy far far away. Even my face is a stranger to me these days. That sun spot on my left cheek appeared sometime when I was not looking. My career is stagnant. My joy on pause. My reading, writing and thinking ability are often second guessed by me.

The older you get you forget to laugh giddily. I read that on Facebook the other day, which by the way, is a place where I get most of everything from- news, recipes, “friendship”. Isn’t it strange how at mid life everything quickens its pace as if you’re in the vortex of a whirlpool?

My eighty three year old mother gets so angry so fast that sometimes we have no idea where all this howling energy comes from. Such determination and sheer will. I wonder why I never inherited the strength but only the anger.

I was born wicked. I actually said that out loud the other day to my husband, who listened without uttering a word. Like walking on an eggshell, he said that once, referring to the state of distress he feels while being married to me. I am a landmine waiting to be stepped on.

My eyes are blurred now. I have trouble reading sometimes. Or thinking clearly. Either way, the world is of translucent shades. A lover once told me I am a hat. Which kind? I wanted to know.

If you’ve gone this far, you might as well walk a little further. It’s so hard to focus your eyes in the dark but you get used to the vastness of the night.